


innocence

by lazyfish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Hunter is Prince Charming, Jemma is Sleeping Beauty, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29334615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: Princess Jemma has been hidden away in a cottage in the woods for the last twenty-five years of her life. As her twenty-fifth birthday approaches and the curse placed on her is about to be broken, Jemma's life gets turned upside down - and, for some reason, there's quite a bit of fuss about her innocence.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	innocence

“Briar Rose,” a soft voice coaxed Jemma from her sleep. “Oh Briar Rose, wake up.”

“I don’t want to,” she mumbled, turning over and burying her face in her pillow.

“What if I told you that I’ve received a message from a certain friend of yours, and he intends to visit this morning?”

 _That_ grabbed Jemma’s attention. She lifted her head from her pillow so she could look at Bobbi, who was hovering in the corner of Jemma’s room with a smirk on her face. 

“You heard from Fitz?”

“Yes, I did. The animals have finally reached an agreement about whatever it was they’ve been arguing about since spring began and he wishes to visit you.” 

It had been months upon months since Jemma had seen Fitz. The forest guardian she’d befriended three summers ago had many obligations that took him practically across the kingdom, but his most recent assignment as an arbiter of the conflict amongst the woodland creatures had been the one that kept him from her the longest. 

Forests were awful places to try to mail letters, seeing as there were no addresses, so anything she heard about Fitz came from Bobbi or the other fairies who occasionally visited. Daisy and Elena didn’t come by nearly as often as Bobbi did, though they never gave a clear answer on why that was.

“You told him yes, I hope?”

“I did, which is why you need to get dressed,” Bobbi said, throwing a gown to Jemma. “You are a princess, and it’s not proper for a man to see a princess half-dressed.”

Jemma bit back a comment about how a nightgown didn’t count as half-dressed, seeing as it covered exactly as much of her as the daygown Bobbi had just thrust upon her. She and Bobbi often got into tiffs about little things like that, mostly because Jemma often forgot it was Bobbi’s role to be her protector as well as her friend. It was even worse because Jemma knew Bobbi didn’t believe in half the rules she was trying to force upon Jemma. 

Nevertheless she changed, and just as she was smoothing her skirts into place, a knock sounded on the door.

Bobbi insisted on going to see who it was, which was ridiculous. Of the people not in the cottage, only Fitz, Elena, and Daisy knew how to find it, and they were so far from the edge of the forest it would be nigh impossible for a stranger to stumble upon it - and if someone wished to do Jemma harm, it wasn’t like they were going to _knock_ before coming inside to attack her or prick her with a spindle.

A shiver ran up Jemma’s spine. When she had been sent to the cottage as a child her parents had refused to tell her the reason for her exile, which had only made it more difficult. Bobbi had confided in Jemma the reason for her being hidden away on her thirteenth birthday, and since then she hadn’t been able to think of spindles without a touch of fear. Being cursed by a fairy queen wasn’t as glamorous as the stories made it out to be.

“Briar Rose!” Fitz’s warm voice spilled through the space, beating away the cold that had settled around her while thinking about the curse. 

“Hello, Fitz,” she greeted, sweeping out of her bedroom and into the main room of the cottage. She wished, desperately, that she could hear Fitz say her real name, but Bobbi had told her it was too dangerous to even tell Fitz her true identity. He already knew too much by knowing she was a young woman in hiding - if he spent more time in the city and less in the forest he would easily figure out her identity. Only so many maidens were hidden away, after all.

“It’s good to see you again,” Fitz said as he settled himself in the sitting area. 

“And you.” Jemma dipped into a curtsy, blush pinkening her cheeks. “How were the animals?”

“Displeased with each other.” Fitz shook his head. “Honestly, it’s like human politics, but a hundred times worse since some of them… well, eat each other.”

“Humans might occasionally eat each other as well,” Jemma teased.

“Darling, we don’t say such things in polite company,” Bobbi said as she breezed past, magicking a teapot and two teacups onto the small table between Jemma and Fitz. Jemma’s blush deepened. She hadn’t meant it in that way at all!

Luckily for her Fitz was equally embarrassed, and he cleared his throat and changed the subject quickly.

“Are you prepared for your birthday?”

“I am!” Jemma’s twenty-fifth birthday was only a week away, at which point the evil fairy’s curse would expire and she would be permitted to return home, safe in the knowledge no spindle would accidentally send her to sleep.

“Consider this your formal invitation to the party,” Bobbi said, twirling her finger and sending a paper bird fluttering down into Fitz’s palm. “We’re excited to have you.”

After her birthday party, Jemma would also be able to tell Fitz who she really was - and perhaps invite him back to the castle with her, if he wanted to come. Bobbi would be coming back with her too, of course, though Jemma wasn’t sure if her friend’s role as her personal bodyguard would continue once the immediate threat to her person was through.

“I’m excited to be there,” Fitz answered. He smiled at Jemma over the rim of his teacup, and her heart fluttered. Yes, her twenty-fifth birthday would be a brilliant one indeed.

\---

Jemma’s daily walks around the forest had grown more and more meandering as time went on. Bobbi only rarely let her go out alone, and on such occasions Jemma liked to savor that time. Bobbi was excellent at letting Jemma have her own space and protecting her without suffocating her, but there were some thoughts she needed to be truly alone with.

Like, honestly, her thoughts about Bobbi.

When she realized the tumble of her friend’s golden hair mesmerized her more than any book, Jemma knew she was in trouble.

What she felt for Bobbi wasn’t the anxious, fluttery kind of feeling she got in her stomach like when she was around Fitz. It was deeper, surer, threading through her like the ivy climbing up the side of the cottage’s stone walls. Bobbi clung to her, wrapped around her, was a _part_ of her, and… and Jemma could never have her. Not least of all because she was a princess and expected to produce an heir, but also because she was human and Bobbi was fae, and her best friend undoubtedly didn’t feel the same way.

It was why she had allowed herself to develop feelings for Fitz, really - if she couldn’t have Bobbi, then at least she could have someone. And Fitz wasn’t a bad person to fall in love with. He was kind and patient and fair and intelligent, everything Jemma would need in a husband even if he was not royal-born. 

Jemma sighed and continued her stroll through the forest, trusting her feet not to fail her even as her mind continued to wander.

She was just about to turn back so she could make it back to the cottage before Bobbi had time to fret when she heard a voice, clear and sweet, drifting through the foliage. 

“And I know it’s true, that visions are seldom what they seem…”

Jemma pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and followed the sound of the voice to a babbling brook with a man sitting at the water’s edge. He had his toes dangling in the water, and it appeared he was either singing to himself or to his horse, who was tied up on the banks.

“And you’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream.” The man looked rather forlorn as he finished singing, twirling the stem of a flower between his thumb and forefinger as he kicked his feet out to create ripples in the brook. Jemma dared to step a little closer so she could see more of the details of the man’s clothing and face to have some hope of guessing who he was.

The tunic he wore was simple but richly-colored, so Jemma would guess him some sort of nobleman. Even with the hesitant steps forward she had taken she couldn’t make out the sigil embroidered on his chest that would mark him as belonging to a certain house. 

“Are you alright, miss?”

Jemma startled, stumbling backwards, when she realized that her focus on recognizing the sigil on the tunic had distracted her from the man looking up - and then looking at her.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, standing up and beginning to pull on his boots. “Are you lost? I didn’t know anyone lived in these parts, except -”

He didn’t finish his sentence, and Jemma didn’t particularly want to hear whatever horror stories her parents had concocted to keep people from her section of the forest. She _wasn’t_ lost, but she worried insisting as much to the man would just make him more suspicious.

“My name is Lance.” The man had finally managed to get his boots on, and he climbed up the bank to where Jemma was still standing, frozen in fear with her back pressed against a tree. “May I know yours?”

“B-Briar Rose,” Jemma stuttered out.

“Ah, the briar and the rose. Two of nature’s prickliest plants.” The man - Lance - smiled at her. “Are you normally the ornery sort, then?”

“No,” Jemma said, finding her voice again. “But if I were, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. Thorns keep the flowers safe.”

“Right you are.” Lance’s smile brightened. “So which are you, Miss Briar Rose? The thorn or the flower?”

“It depends on whether or not you make me feel unsafe,” Jemma sniffed. She still didn’t trust anyone who was in her forest without reason, and seeing as the man didn’t have any hunting equipment nor any cargo, she couldn’t imagine what his reason would be for passing through.

“I should hope not,” Lance laughed. Belatedly, jemma realized now that he was close to her, she would be able to see the sigil on his tunic quite clearly. Her eyes flicked down, and -

 _A gryphon_. He was a member of the royal house of the neighboring kingdom, her parents’ closest allies. Jemma wracked her brain, trying to remember if she and Bobbi had reviewed anyone whose name was Lance when she’d had her diplomacy lessons about the neighboring kingdom’s royal family.

The only one she could think of would be Lancelot, but that didn’t make sense. Why would a crown prince be walking through a forest alone, without even a guard in sight?

 _Why would a crown princess be walking through a forest alone, without even a guard in sight?_ Jemma’s brain supplied snidely. Their circumstances were different, though; Lancelot hadn’t been cursed, and he didn’t need to be separate from the rest of society to be safe. 

“May I escort you back to the rest of your party?” Lance asked. “A young woman really shouldn’t be alone in these woods.”

Jemma could think of no way to decline his invitation without sounding suspicious - though she supposed leading him to her cottage in a supposedly uninhabited area of the woods would arouse suspicion either way. Nevertheless Jemma allowed Lance to lift her onto his horse, and guided him to the small path that led up to the cottage.

For his part, he didn’t bat an eyelash when she instructed him to stop his horse, nor when she dismounted. He followed her up the path, but they weren’t yet to the door when it swung open and Bobbi came flying out.

“Where have you been!?” she said, too irate at Jemma to even notice they had company. “You had me all up in knots, thinking you’d been snatched by some…” Bobbi’s voice faded when she saw someone was standing behind Jemma, “...ruffian,” she finished quietly. “What is he doing here?”

“I was returning Briar Rose to her home,” Lance answered for himself. “I didn’t realize you’d be here as well.”

Jemma’s heart skipped a beat, and she furrowed her brow. She had assumed Bobbi’s diminuendo had been because she was accompanied by a man at all, but now looking more closely, Bobbi wasn’t nearly surprised nor angry enough for Lance to have been someone she’d never seen before.

“You two know each other?” Jemma asked.

“We do,” Bobbi said shortly.

“Bob, I was looking for you, I -”

“- thought maybe it was time for you to tell me who you really were?” Bobbi finished coldly. “I’m not blind, Hunter. I can see what you’re wearing.”

_Hunter?_

“You never told me what you were doing in the forest, so I thought I’d return the favor!” Lance - Hunter? Jemma wasn’t sure what was going on, honestly - snapped. It seemed he and Bobbi had both forgotten they weren’t alone, and Jemma cleared her throat loudly.

“Why don’t we all go inside and sort this out?”

Bobbi looked ready to argue, but Jemma glared at her. She didn’t like to pull rank, but if Bobbi wouldn’t agree to the conversation, Jemma would simply make her agree.

Reluctantly, Bobbi allowed Hunter to enter the cottage and the trio made their way to the sitting room that Fitz had been occupying just this morning.

“Her name isn’t Briar Rose, is it?” Lance asked after they had gotten situated.

Jemma looked at Bobbi warily, but her companion simply nodded in response to the question.

“This is a mess,” Lance said when neither of them offered further comment. 

“How did you know?” Jemma asked. 

“That you’re the princess?” Hunter clarified. Jemma nodded, stomach squirming at the confirmation of her identity even if Bobbi seemed to think it was safe.

“I was sent into the forest to fetch her back for her birthday feast,” Hunter explained. “We’re to be married.” Jemma didn’t know whether she or Bobbi was more stunned at the declaration, but Hunter soldiered on regardless of their responses. “I knew Bobbi was… different, but I didn’t put the pieces together until I saw you here. The princess is guarded by the fae, everyone knows that. And of course there’s a matter of you having a cottage in the woods, which isn’t exactly common in these parts. Or legal.”

“Can we return to you and I being betrothed, please?” Jemma requested, figuring that was safer than trying to tease out anything about Bobbi and Hunter’s affair.

“It happened when we were children. I suppose both of our parents thought the agreement aged well.” Hunter shrugged. “And the sooner you’re married, the sooner… everything else can happen.”

Jemma resisted the urge to throw something. At twenty-five she was hardly an old maid, but she knew from Bobbi’s news from court that she was expected to settle down and have an heir practically immediately. It was part of why she had taken her relationship with Fitz so seriously; she knew she needed to be married and carry on her family’s bloodline.

“You have no opposition to it?” Jemma asked.

Lance looked over to Bobbi, but she looked away pointedly. “I gave up any notion of marrying for love a long time ago,” he said eventually. “And you?”

“I had found someone I thought my parents would agree is a suitable match,” Jemma said. “I wouldn’t have let my heart escape me if I had known I was to marry someone else.”

“Unfortunately hearts are wholly impractical and often give themselves away even when you object,” Lance said. He was looking at Bobbi again, and she was still avoiding looking back. “If we are married, I have no objection to you taking a lover.”

“How magnanimous of you,” Bobbi said under her breath.

“And if you don’t wish to be married at all, I’m sure we can find an excuse for why the wedding can’t go forward,” Lance continued, as if she hadn’t spoken at all.

“What sort of excuse?” Jemma asked. Honestly, not being married to a veritable stranger would always be the more preferable option.

“Are you innocent?” Lance asked.

Blush crept up Jemma’s cheeks. “Yes.”

“Ah. Would your suitable match be willing to change that in the next week?”

The blush darkened. “Um. Likely not.”

“He doesn’t know she likes him,” Bobbi explained for her. “Or that she’s a princess.”

Jemma nodded. Shewould feel awful dumping all of this on Fitz, even if the idea of letting him take her innocence didn’t quicken her heartbeat in her chest. He had strong, sure hands that could no doubt hold her steady while he had his way with her, and -

“That does put a bit of a damper on that plan.”

“What about you?” Jemma asked. 

“Love, no one particularly cares about my innocence unless I’ve sired a bastard. And unless there’s something our dear Bob isn’t telling me, that’s not the case.”

Jemma’s eyelashes fluttered rapidly as her brain tried to make sense of what she had just heard. Bobbi had gone to bed with the prince? She had guessed there was some history between them based on how they spoke to each other, but not _that_.

“No bastard for you,” Bobbi said coldly.

“Which leaves us at a bit of a loss,” Lance finished. “We still have time to figure it out, I suppose.”

“When is my birthday ball?” Jemma asked. She hadn’t heard anything of it, and Bobbi had made it sound like she would be celebrating her birthday in the forest.

“Ten days from now,” Lance answered. “Though I’m expected to deliver you to the castle the day after your birthday.”

“And they trust you not to take my innocence?” Jemma asked, eyebrow arched.

“It wouldn’t matter if I did, if we’re to be married. In fact, they’d probably rather prefer if you were already with child on our wedding day.”

The thought turned Jemma’s stomach. At least Lance looked no more delighted by the prospect than she did.

“If this is not what you want, Jemma, then it won’t happen,” Lance said. “Our parents may be keen on forcing us into a union against our wills, but I’m not keen to do the same.”

Jemma sighed and nodded. Hopefully they would be able to figure it out before it was all too late.

\---

Lance left later that afternoon, agreeing to camp outside the cottage for the time being and leaving Jemma and Bobbi alone together, tension bubbling between them.

“So, he…?” Jemma asked, finally breaking the silence.

“He and I met on the edge of the forest over a year ago,” Bobbi answered shortly. “He didn’t tell me he was a prince in all the times we shared a bed.”

“I think perhaps you’re being too hard on him,” Jemma said gently. “I haven’t told Fitz I’m a princess, but that doesn’t mean what I feel for him isn’t real?”

“You’re taking his side?” Bobbi asked, stung.

“I didn’t realize there were sides,” Jemma said, brow furrowing. “I just - he seems to care for you.” She hadn’t spent much time in Lance’s presence but the hour she had spent had been more than enough to convince her he was infatuated with Bobbi. It was probably why he had been so eager to offer her an out from their proposed marriage; he wouldn’t be happy with her any more than she’d be happy with him. 

“Maybe he does. But caring isn’t enough.”

Jemma sighed and changed the subject. “Do you think I should let Fitz take my innocence?”

“Perhaps he doesn’t even have to take it,” Bobbi mused, relaxing now that the conversation had turned away from her and her love life. “Wouldn’t it be enough for Hunter to believe he had taken it?”

“Would anyone check?” Jemma asked, shifting uncomfortably. “And won’t you get in trouble? For having left me alone with a man?”

“I didn’t leave you alone. You snuck out, or he snuck in,” Bobbi said, shrugging. “Besides, it’s not like your parents can cross me. They’d worry I’d put another curse on you.”

“You never would.”

“Your parents don’t know me like you do.” Bobbi smiled fondly. “Remember, I left the castle when you did. And even if fae age more slowly than humans, I was still young then, and more than a little impulsive.”

“Still.” Jemma crossed her arms. “You would think if they trusted you enough to put you in charge of me they would trust you enough not to curse me.”

“You would think,” Bobbi echoed.

\---

“This man,” Fitz fumed, “was creeping outside the cottage.” He threw Hunter into the cottage with a strength Jemma regularly forgot he possessed, and Hunter stumbled forward, only catching himself after a few steps.

“I tried to tell him I’m not a bloody assassin but he wouldn’t let me get a word in,” Lance said, giving Jemma an apologetic look. “Is this your man, then?”

“Yes, this is Fitz,” Jemma said with a sigh. She’d forgotten during his absence that Fitz had a bit of a temper on him. “Fitz, this is… Hunter. He’s a friend and he’ll be staying outside the cottage for the next week. Bobbi and I both know he’s there.” Lance was no longer wearing his official tunic with the royal gryphon stitched onto it, so they could hide his identity until they had time to explain everything to Fitz.

“A friend?” Fitz repeated, looking to Bobbi. “Why’s he have a sword, then?”

“In case I meet people like you who I need to _stab_ ,” Hunter muttered.

“You won’t be stabbing anyone,” Bobbi snapped. “And Fitz, please. Hunter is here on important business and we’d be in quite a bit of trouble if he didn’t return home in one piece.”

“Quite a bit of trouble,” Hunter repeated under his breath. “A bloody war is what you’d have.”

Jemma hid her smirk in a cough. Hunter was right, but she wasn’t expecting him to say it outright, and seeming more _annoyed_ than angry or afraid.

“Fitz, how about you and I have a talk?” Bobbi said, beckoning Fitz to the back of the cottage. “Jemma will be fine with Hunter.”

Fitz didn’t look happy to be taken away from her, and Jemma’s cheeks warmed. She also was grateful she wasn’t the one explaining the situation to Fitz; Bobbi would probably do a much better job of it than she would anyways.

Once Fitz had left Hunter huffed and settled himself against a wall. “You have questionable taste,” he told Jemma.

“Fitz is just protective. It’s in his nature.”

“It’s not like I had a spindle on me!”

“He, ah, doesn’t know about the curse, either.” All Fitz knew was that Jemma was a maiden in the forest, and that had made everything between them so much simpler.

“He has a nice arse, at least.”

Jemma gaped at Hunter, not quite sure she had heard him correctly.

“Sorry, are you not okay with -?” Hunter asked, hand fluttering uncertainly. Jemma chastised herself for her behavior and making him doubt she would accept him for finding another man attractive. She was hardly one to talk, with her crush on Bobbi being what it was.

“No, I just didn’t expect it is all,” Jemma said. Without warning she was struck with images of Hunter’s mouth on Fitz’s, and Jemma couldn’t suppress the shudder of desire that travelled up her spine.

“Bobbi and I were thinking that perhaps Fitz needn’t actually take my innocence,” Jemma said, shuffling closer to Hunter so she could lean on the wall next to him. “So long as all of our stories line up, it could just be a clever lie.”

“Possibly,” Hunter said. He stroked a hand on the spray of stubble on his chin. “Do you think any of the fae who are allied with your parents would use a truth spell on you?”

“I - I don’t know.” Jemma hadn’t considered that her parents wouldn’t simply trust her word and Hunter’s.

“Neither do I. But we could be in an even stickier situation if they did and found out we were undermining the union.” 

“War?” Jemma asked, voice small.

“I don’t know if it would go quite that far. But would you be pleased if your heir was going against your will and then lying to you about it?”

“No, I’d imagine not,” Jemma sighed. “Shite.”

“Perhaps Fitz can stay in your bed tonight,” Hunter suggested. “If they ask questions euphemistically enough it could still satisfy a truth spell without you having to cross any boundaries you’re uncomfortable with.”

“If he agrees, maybe.”

At that moment Fitz and Bobbi returned to the cottage. Fitz looked unsure if he ought to be somber, angry, or something else entirely. 

“Jemma,” he said, beckoning to her. “I think we need to talk.”

\---

The night air was warm and still, and Jemma was hyperaware of the other body in bed with her. Fitz had agreed to Hunter’s scheme of saying they had slept together on a pure technicality.

“Fitz,” Jemma whispered.

“Hmm?” he asked, turning over so he was looking at her instead of at the ceiling.

“I never got to tell you how… how I feel about you,” Jemma said, surprised to find the words stumbled off her tongue despite how many times she had rehearsed them in her head. “And I’m sorry that I didn’t, before we had to do this.”

“How you feel about me?”

“I didn’t ask you just to lie with me because it was convenient,” Jemma said, hurt that Fitz might ever think so little of her. “I… I enjoy your company. Your wit, your kindness, and even your temper.” She blinked, trying to focus on the bit of him she could see from the moonlight slanting in through the gap in the curtains. “I don’t want to say I love you, because I feel like there’s still so much of you I have to learn, but…”

“May I kiss you?” Fitz asked quietly.

Jemma nodded, and Fitz closed the space between them, slanting his mouth over hers. The kiss was soft and hesitant, but despite the uncertainty Jemma’s heart sped up. This was what she had imagined when she thought of love. Of course she hadn’t thought her first kiss would also come on the first night she shared a bed with a man, but life hadn’t been normal for Jemma in any sense of the word - why would it start now?

“I could love you too, Jemma,” Fitz whispered. “But this is moving so quickly, and -”

“I know,” Jemma hushed him. “We don’t need anything more than possibility, do we?”

“I suppose not.” Fitz’s breath whispered across Jemma’s skin, and she squeezed her eyes closed to tamp down the urge to kiss him again. “Though it would be strange if we supposedly laid together and can’t even look at each other without getting tongue-tied.”

“We’re still who we were before, Fitz,” Jemma insisted. “Friends who enjoy talking about the plants and the animals and the sun and the stars and everything else. It’s just that we happen to kiss now, too. And perhaps one day we’ll do more than kiss.”

“I would like that,” Fitz said. “I can be your friend who you kiss.”

Jemma smiled. “Good.”

\---

Morning came and with it a renewed sense of calm. They had a plan in place for how Jemma could return home without having to marry a stranger, and she could spend the next week looking forward to her birthday instead of dreading her return to court life.

Over breakfast Bobbi began another politics lesson, this time with Hunter as her co-teacher to fill in finer points Bobbi might not be aware of after her time away from court and to offer a different perspective on situations. He was wittier than Jemma would’ve expected given his constant threats to stab something, and a wry sense of humor that often sent him and Bobbi into verbal sparring matches.

They still seemed at odds with each other, which didn’t bode well for Jemma’s plans of looking forward to the week to come.

Of course, Jemma also had to contend with her own twisted feelings. She had mostly put them aside when she and Fitz had been in the same bed - he was so close Jemma swore he might be able to read her thoughts and tell if her mind wandered to someone else - but never getting to tell Bobbi how she felt was… wrong. Jemma told Fitz she couldn’t love him yet because there was still so much left to learn, but _Bobbi_ … she knew the fairy like the back of her hand, knew every dip and curve of her. If she and Bobbi went to bed together Jemma wouldn’t need to make a map with her hands, because her eyes had already done all the work for her, ever since she was fifteen and had noticed the swell of Bobbi’s breasts for the first time. Love was borne of familiarity, and there was no one more familiar to Jemma than Bobbi was.

And Jemma would never be able to say so.

“Penny for them?” Hunter asked when Bobbi departed for an afternoon meeting with Daisy and Elena. 

“Hmm?” Jemma asked distractedly.

“You haven’t seemed right all morning,” Hunter said. “I don’t even know you and you felt off, so I can only imagine Bob sensed the same. She’ll want to know if something’s wrong, you know.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Jemma insisted. The words fell flat, and Hunter arched an eyebrow at her.

“Did Fitz -?”

“Fitz didn’t take any liberties I didn’t ask him to,” Jemma interrupted. “It has nothing to do with him.”

“Something to do with Bobbi, then?” 

Jemma deflated. “Maybe.”

“What about her?” Hunter pushed. “Because if you’re worried about her and me, she won’t even give me the time of day, so -”

“Bobbi never told me whether a woman can lie with another woman. Or a man with another man,” Jemma blurted. “Can you tell me?”

“I - if you mean if it is biologically possible, yes, though of course the union won’t bring forth any children. If you mean if it is socially acceptable, also yes. It has been a long time since anyone thought it strange if you prefer someone of your own sex.” Hunter paused. “Are you…?”

“I like both,” Jemma said. “As I assume you do.”

Hunter nodded. “Bobbi?”

It was Jemma’s turn to nod. “But it’s impossible.”

“Because she’s fae, or because you’re a princess?”

“Both? And because she doesn’t see me in that way.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Hunter said. “She obviously cares for you.”

“Caring for someone and wanting… wanting _that_ with them are very different.”

“Why don’t you ask her?”

“Because I’m with Fitz now,” Jemma said glumly. “And it’s not fair for her to know how I truly feel when we can’t do anything about it.”

“Has Bobbi really never told you that there are more ways to live than just the most common one?” Hunter clicked his tongue. “Some things are expected of us as royals, but people are also willing to turn a blind eye for the same reason. As long as we’re not doing anything horribly illegal.”

“What do you mean?” Jemma didn’t want to get her hopes up, but it seemed like Hunter was about to offer a solution to her problem, and Jemma quite liked solutions.

“Most people think of having more than one partner as synonymous with infidelity, but there are ways it can be done well,” Hunter explained. “Like when I told you that you could take a lover if we were married. If I knew about it, and your lover knew that I knew, it could be… consensual non-monogamy is the word some people use.”

“You think… you think I could do that with Bobbi and Fitz?” Jemma asked.

“I don’t know if either of them would agree to it. But you could ask,” Hunter said, cocking his head. “Asking is the first step on the road to happiness, I say.”

“I - thank you, Lance,” Jemma said. He didn’t have to tell her any of this, and yet he had, and Jemma appreciated it immensely.

“You deserve to have a life you want, Jemma. What is expected of you and what you want don’t always have to be at odds, if you’re careful about it.”

“Then why did you hide who you were from Bobbi?” Jemma asked before she could stop herself.

Hunter’s shoulders sagged. “I didn’t always realize that I could have both my duties and my desires. So if I can give you that chance…” He looked up at her and straightened. “You’ll be better to her than I was, yeah?”

Jemma nodded. She could learn from Hunter’s mistakes - she could be better.

\---

“Both?” Fitz repeated incredulously.

“Both,” Jemma confirmed.

“Both.” Bobbi was the most ponderous of the trio, biting her lip as she considered the proposal. Bobbi had taken Jemma’s love confession in stride but hadn’t gone so far as to return it - probably because she was waiting to see how this conversation would turn out. If Fitz wasn’t amenable to the idea, it would stop there; he was the one Jemma needed, and Bobbi was the one she wanted, as unfortunate as that distinction was. 

“I have another complication,” Bobbi said after a long minute of all three of them inspecting each other and pretending they weren’t doing just that.

“Another,” Fitz snorted. “What is it, then?”

“I want Hunter,” Bobbi declared.

Jemma’s heart flipped. “What?”

“If you’re not going to marry him then someone else has to. I may be pissed at him but I’m not going to let him spend the rest of his life with someone else.” 

“I have no objections to you sleeping with Hunter. Fitz?” Jemma turned to him, unsure what his response was going to - especially since he hadn’t exactly agreed to be with her while she was also with Bobbi.

“It seems like it would be easier if we all just slept together,” Fitz grumbled. “Then I don’t have to keep track of who I’m allowed to kiss or not.”

“You like Hunter?” Jemma asked. She hadn’t known they had spent any time together in the three days since Hunter had arrived at the cottage. She should’ve expected as much, since Hunter wasn’t always inside with her and Bobbi, but still. It seemed her taking this long to come clean and have a conversation with both Bobbi and Fitz had been good for something.

“You like _me_?” Bobbi added.

FItz looked at both of them incredulously. “Of course I like Hunter, he’s -” Fitz spluttered, unable to find a word, so he turned to Bobbi. “And of course I like you!”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” It was perhaps the first time Jemma had seen Bobbi genuinely shocked by something, and she had to say that selfishly, she was rather enjoying how off-balance Bobbi seemed by Fitz’s declaration.

“You’re a fairy!”

“And you’re a forest guardian!” Bobbi said, throwing her hands into the air. “We’re both magic, so what?!”

“So - Jemma, tell her!”

“I don’t think I should tell Bobbi anything,” Jemma answered, amused. “She’s right. You are both magic, and in some ways you two are a better match than you and I are.”

“I - I -” Fitz stuttered. 

“Where’s Hunter?” Jemma asked. This hadn’t been the turn of events she’d expected, otherwise she’d have made sure he was present for their conversation, too.

“I’ll go find him,” Fitz said, rising from his chair. Jemma suspected he just needed the fresh air the search would provide him, and she couldn’t object. She had dumped quite a bit of information on him all at once.

Fitz’s departure left Jemma alone in the kitchen with Bobbi.

“So,” the other woman said. 

“So,” Jemma repeated back. Bobbi hadn’t properly responded to Jemma saying she loved her yet, and Jemma was sure that was about to be addressed, but… there really was no way to address it, other than that the feelings existed and were apparently reciprocated. Jemma had told herself her lack of eloquence in her first admission of her feelings was because Fitz was there, but now that they were alone the words weren’t coming any easier.

“If I had known how you felt, I would have done something,” Bobbi said finally. “But I never guessed…”

“I’m better at hiding things from you than you think.”

“Apparently so,” Bobbi sighed. “I wish you weren’t, though.”

“Would things have really been different?” Jemma asked. “Hunter would’ve still had to come and find us. I would still need to marry him for an heir.”

“I don’t know. But does it matter? We can’t change the past, only the future.”

Jemma nodded. When Bobbi ducked her head the late afternoon sunshine caught on her hair, lighting the blonde up with orange and gold. Jemma stared unabashedly, relishing in being able to soak in the beauty without feeling like she had to turn away.

“I think I would like that.” Jemma offered Bobbi her hand, and Bobbi took it, squeezing. Changing their relationship from protector and protected to lovers would no doubt be different, but Jemma was excited to take the leap into the unknown. Bobbi would catch her.

The front door to the cottage slammed open loudly enough to make both of them jump, and Bobbi and Jemma hurried to the front entrance. Fitz had fetched Hunter, as promised… but Hunter was half-naked.

“Can someone explain what the bloody hell is going on?!”

“Why doesn’t Hunter have a shirt on?” Bobbi directed her question to Fitz.

“I was taking a bath! You’re lucky he let me put trousers on!”

“I didn’t want to make you wait,” Fitz panted.

“Make them wait for _what_?” Hunter asked.

“You maybe should’ve explained a little.” Jemma couldn’t help but giggle at Hunter’s indignation. His general hissiness and dripping-wet hair made him seem like a drowned cat, far from his normal easygoing nature.

“Explained -?!”

Before Hunter could make another disgruntled comment Bobbi walked up to him, seized his face in her hands, and kissed him on the lips. Hunter flailed before settling his hands on her waist, holding her close.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Hunter said when Bobbi broke away, “but what was that for?”

“To shut you up long enough to get a word in edgewise,” Bobbi answered primly. “Jemma?”

“I talked to Bobbi and Fitz about your suggestion of having multiple lovers,” Jemma explained quickly before Hunter could start grumbling again. “And Bobbi agreed on the condition that she could also see you. But Fitz had the brilliant idea that instead of having us all disjointed and unsure of where our relationship with each person stood, we could all just be together.”

Hunter’s mouth opened and closed like he was a fish out of water. 

“It really is much more simple, don’t you think?” Jemma asked. “Since we all have feelings for each other -”

“We do?” Hunter asked, finding his voice. “No offense, Jem, but I thought the only one in this cottage who liked me was Bob. And even then, _liked_ , past tense.”

“Lance,” Jemma sighed, exasperated. “Fitz has known Bobbi and I for three years and only confessed he liked us when we told him we liked him first. Why do you think he would tell you any sooner?”

“That still doesn’t explain you apparently liking me!”

He had a point. Jemma couldn’t exactly pin down a moment in the last few days when she had realized that marrying Hunter wouldn’t be a horrible burden, if her parents didn’t accept their story about her innocence being taken by another man, nor could she remember when she began to think of Hunter fondly. She _could_ remember when she first thought about bringing him to bed, though that wasn’t polite to recount.

“Well I do,” Jemma declared stubbornly. “If you don’t feel the same we can renegotiate but -”

“That’s not necessary,” Hunter said. “We can give it a go.” He paused, squinting at Jemma. “This wasn’t really what I meant when I said you didn’t have to choose between duty and desire.”

“She’s not very good at following instructions,” Bobbi said fondly.

“Neither am I.”

“I know.” Bobbi smirked.

“…Would anyone mind terribly if I went and put on a shirt now?”

“I would,” Jemma said, surprised by her own boldness. “I have some questions about what it’s like to lie with a man, and I was hoping you and Bobbi might be able to answer them for me.”

“I don’t see why he needs to be - _oh_ ,” Fitz said, cutting himself off when he realized Jemma’s meaning. He cleared his throat, and Jemma saw him shift his hands to cover his crotch.

Bobbi waved her hand and the front door of the cottage shut and locked itself. “What sort of questions, Jemma?”

“A book I read said intercourse is never pleasurable for a woman. Is that true?” Jemma asked, swallowing thickly when Hunter approached Bobbi, his eyes flashing with something Jemma didn’t recognize but still managed to burn her from the inside out. Jemma walked backwards until she was pressed against the wall, beckoning Fitz to join her. She wanted to observe, and observation was best done when she was out of the way.

“Not at all.” Another wave of Bobbi’s hand and her corset unlaced itself, allowing Hunter to wiggle it off and leave Bobbi in just her shift and skirts. “It can be quite pleasurable for a woman, if done correctly,” she said.

“Correctly?” Jemma repeated. Bobbi didn’t use magic to undo the ties on Hunter’s trousers, instead using her fingers to pry apart the knot and send the clothing tumbling to the floor. Jemma’s breath caught in her throat. It was the first time she had seen a man’s length in person; her books had drawings, but the drawings had done nothing to prepare her for the real thing.

“Would you like a demonstration?” Hunter asked, stepping out of his trousers and guiding Bobbi to the wall a few feet away from where Jemma and Fitz were standing. 

“That would be beneficial, yes,” Jemma said.

“First, it is important that the woman is ready.” Hunter placed a lingering kiss on Bobbi’s neck, gathering her skirts around her thighs. “If she isn’t, then even the gentlest man can hurt her. Are you ready, love?”

Bobbi nodded, and Hunter smiled, shuffling forward. From this distance Jemma could see even more of the anatomy of his prick, its shape and color and… hardness. 

“Tell Jemma how it feels,” Hunter encouraged. He lifted Bobbi up onto the wall with one arm, his other hand on his prick so he could guide himself into her hole.

“If a man is being gentle, it should feel like a stretch. A very pleasant stretch, but -” Bobbi sucked in a breath, interrupted by Hunter pushing his prick into her. Her fingers tightened around Hunter’s shoulders and her head dropped forward, but it didn’t seem like she was in pain. Rather the opposite.

“The most important part of an enjoyable sexual experience is communication.” Hunter’s voice kept catching as he slowly began to move his hips. “The second is rhythm. Fitz, are you taking notes?”

Jemma turned around to look at Fitz, who had at least graduated from trying to cover his erection and was now just staring, open-mouthed, at Hunter slowly fucking Bobbi against the wall of Jemma’s cottage. He shook his head mutely, and Jemma turned back just in time to see Hunter smirking. 

“Maybe you should be.”

Bobbi mewled and Hunter turned his full attention back to her, his voice dropping to murmur something in Bobbi’s ear that was private for the two of them.

Jemma stood ramrod straight when there was suddenly a hot body at her back and an erection pressed against her bottom. 

“I would like to touch you,” Fitz whispered. “May I?”

Jemma nodded, helping Fitz gather her skirts up and out of the way so his hands could find her more sensitive areas. Jemma had touched herself before, but never had felt so urgent a need for it. Even Fitz’s careful exploration lit a fire in her unlike anything she’d felt before, and Jemma’s hips bucked into his hand when he found a particularly pleasurable spot.

“Oh!” Fitz sucked in a loud breath at the sound of Bobbi’s moan, and Jemma’s knees nearly buckled with the intensity of everything crashing over her. Bobbi was so beautiful being ravished by Hunter, and Hunter’s single-minded attention on her, lecture forgotten, only made Jemma wonder what it would be like to receive that sort of focus. Fitz’s hand between her legs was teasing in the best way, and Jemma’s brain was rushing to keep up with it all. She had never considered with more than one lover there would be so much more to see, to hear, to _feel_.

“I’m close,” Bobbi gasped. Jemma didn’t have time to ask what she was close to before Bobbi let out a cry, her body arching off the wall and into Hunter. He spoke to her under his breath until she came back to herself, and Jemma stared. _That_ was an orgasm? Her books had made it seem so… clinical, if they had bothered to mention women could orgasm at all. 

Then again, these were the same books that insisted women had to lay back and bear whatever their husband chose to do with them in bed, without any pleasure for themselves.

Fitz let out a frustrated grunt, fingers stumbling slightly before he withdrew them from Jemma’s crotch entirely.

“What’s the matter?”

“I want to make you feel like that,” Fitz muttered. “But I can’t figure it out!”

“Fitz,” Jemma sighed. “Bobbi and Hunter have laid together before. I’m sure their first time wasn’t like that.”

“It wasn’t,” Bobbi said. Hunter had let her down from the wall but Bobbi still gripped onto it with one of her hands. “But it was pleasurable enough that I, for some reason, decided I wanted to see him again.”

“Oi!” Hunter huffed.

“Perhaps Fitz could use some help, Lance,” Bobbi suggested.

“Let’s get Jemma out of her dress,” Hunter said. “It’s much easier when you can see what’s happening.”

Bobbi made quick work of Jemma’s clothing, magicking it into a neat pile on the floor. Jemma shivered at her sudden nakedness, but Fitz’s heat soon helped her warm again.

“Remember.” Hunter went to stand behind Fitz, and Jemma looked over her shoulder to see him taking Fitz’s hand and guiding it to Jemma’s crotch. It was an odd sort of position, with the three of them all in a sandwich and Hunter puppeteering Fitz, but the moment Fitz’s fingers were on her skin again she couldn’t bring herself to care. “Rhythm is everything.”

Hunter began guiding Fitz in a series of short, smooth strokes through her folds and Jemma’s eyes slid shut. That felt nice.

“The other important thing is to pay attention to how she responds,” Hunter said. His voice sounded like it was coming from underwater, though, because pleasure was quickly hazing Jemma’s brain. Fitz’s fingers teased at her entrance and Jemma gasped in a breath when he slid inside. He withdrew quickly, but just as quickly returned to the spot, no doubt at Hunter’s instruction.

An unfamiliar hand - Hunter’s, then - came to tease at her bare breast and Jemma moaned loud and low in her throat. Her whole body felt like it was on fire and being touched in two different places by two different people wasn’t helping her cool off. Jemma was certain if Bobbi touched her too she would combust.

Jemma pried her eyes open just enough to see where Bobbi was, and gulped in a breath when she found her friend kneeling between her legs, patiently waiting for… something.

“ _Oh-ooh_ ,” Jemma trilled when Fitz’s fingers brushed her most sensitive spot. Jemma had tried touching herself there, but she could never decide if felt good or bad or something else entirely. When Fitz touched it, though, there was no doubt of the ecstasy coursing through her.

Fitz returned to the spot, first circling carefully and then with more pressure. Jemma pitched forward, but a strong hand caught her before she could completely fall over. Her legs wobbled dangerously beneath her and the jelly-like sensation was only getting worse with each pass of Fitz’s fingers over her swollen bundle of nerves. Jemma heaved in breaths, not entirely sure what was happening to her body or her mind. She felt like she was on the edge of something, but whether that thing was good or bad she couldn’t tell. 

“It’s okay, Jemma.” Bobbi’s voice, clear and steady, broke through her fog. “It’ll feel good if you let go.”

Jemma trusted Bobbi more than anyone else in the world - so she let go.

Bobbi’s promise hadn’t been a false one. Every part of her exploded into a before-unknown bliss, sparks of color and light and sound filling her consciousness for just a moment before being whisked away again. Jemma couldn’t say how long the rapture lasted, only that when it was over she immediately craved the sensation again.

The four of them were silent for a minute as they all caught their breaths, the scent of sex permeating the air of the cottage. Jemma didn’t know how she recognized the smell, but she did. She took in a breath and thought _this is what sex smells like_ , and she wanted more. It was like a secret had been kept from her for her first twenty-five years, the books her parents had given Bobbi only speaking of sex as something she must do and not something she should want to do.

Jemma supposed it was smart; if she knew sex could feel like this, she never would make it to her wedding night innocent. As it was she didn’t know how she would maintain her innocence in the days remaining at the cottage - she wasn’t even sure she wanted to try.

\---

“I was thinking,” Jemma said, tracing lazy spirals on the bare skin of Hunter’s back. “Perhaps we should get married after all.”

“Me and you?” Hunter asked, not turning around. He had been the one to share her bed the night before, and they were still in the long, languorous process of dragging themselves awake for breakfast.

“Like you said, us being royals will help anyone turn a blind eye,” Jemma reasoned. “And if we’re not married, there’ll be fewer occasions for all four of us to get together. You’ll be in your kingdom and I’ll be in mine and it would be quite suspicious if we were always sneaking back and forth.”

“Always the logical one,” Hunter yawned, turning over to face her. “Your parents will be pleased.”

“Probably less pleased that we both have our lovers arranged already,” Jemma chuckled. 

“Ah, but pleased that you remain innocent.”

Jemma snorted. “In the barest sense of the word.” Neither Hunter nor Fitz had taken her in the traditional way, but Jemma was far from the blushing virgin she had been a week prior. Hunter’s mouth, Bobbi’s fingers, Fitz’s leg - they were all no longer strangers to her most private places. Jemma wasn’t looking forward to when she was back in the castle and could not simply begin undressing herself and find a partner eager to sate her. 

Jemma wasn’t looking forward to when she was back in the castle for many other reasons, too. She had been afforded a great many freedoms while living in the cottage, and she was just now beginning to consider how all those would change when she was home again.

 _Home_. As if the cottage wasn’t the only home she’d ever known.

“At the very least you won’t have a babe in your belly,” Hunter said, nuzzling into her neck. Jemma petted a hand through his hair absently.

“Bobbi might,” Jemma said.

“Bobbi doesn’t think she could have a human’s baby,” Hunter said, mouth still pressed against Jemma’s skin. 

“Fitz isn’t human, though.” Jemma wasn’t entirely sure what a forest guardian _was_ , but the way Bobbi spoke of him made it very clear he wasn’t human, even though he looked it. 

“Has Fitz taken her in that way?” Hunter asked.

“Once.” Jemma and Hunter hadn’t been present (they were on one of their daily walks through the forest), but Bobbi had told her the details of it afterwards. It had sounded quite thrilling - thrilling enough that Jemma had ended up splayed out on the kitchen table while Bobbi had her way with her after the tale had been finished.

“Do you desire children?” Hunter asked, resting his chin on Jemma’s shoulder.

“I guess I never thought of it. I always knew I’d have to have at least one, and if we’re to be married that means I’ll need to have two…” Jemma bit her lip as she pondered. The idea of birthing a child was foreign to her; she had never seen a pregnant woman, nor had she ever seen a baby. There was much of the world she hadn’t seen, and it was hard to know whether or not she desired something when she just read about it in books.

“I think you would be a good mother,” Hunter said. “You’re patient and kind and terribly stubborn.”

“There’s so much I couldn’t tell a child, though,” Jemma said with a sigh, resuming running her hands through Hunter’s hair. “I didn’t have a normal childhood here, Lance.”

“I know you didn’t.” He placed a kiss on her shoulder, warm and gentle. “But that’s why you have me.”

“You didn’t have a normal childhood, either,” Jemma pointed out. Being a prince wasn’t _normal_.

“And neither would our children, I’m afraid,” Hunter said. “But at least we won’t have to send them away to a cottage in the forest to protect them from curses.”

“Perhaps if we cross the wrong fairy we will.”

“Not with Bob on our side,” Hunter said firmly. “A mother’s love protects from all manner of curses, especially when that mother is fae.”

“Would magic still consider a child I carried to be Bobbi’s?”

“That’s not a question for me,” Hunter sighed. “But I couldn’t see why not.”

“If only politics worked the same way,” Jemma murmured. If Bobbi could carry the children that would be her and Hunter’s heirs, things would be so much simpler. Then Jemma wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not she'd be a good mother or if the fairy who cursed her would try again with her child.

“Don’t fret, love.” Hunter rolled again, this time positioning himself on top of Jemma. He pecked a kiss on her mouth. “We have plenty of time before we have to worry about children.”

“We’re going back to the castle in four days,” Jemma said. “That doesn’t sound like plenty of time to me.”

“Maybe not,” Hunter said. “But worrying won’t make the time move any slower.” He bent to kiss her again and Jemma relaxed into his mouth, his body. Hunter was right, of course. She couldn’t change the movement of time just by willing it so.

“If you wish for us to be married, you should probably talk to Fitz. He might be disappointed he’ll no longer get to be a prince.”

Jemma smirked. “He’ll survive.”

“Oh, I know that look,” Hunter said, running his thumb under the curve of Jemma’s lower lip. “Do you have plans on how you’ll make it up to him?”

“Perhaps.”

“And do those plans involve you on your knees?”

“Perhaps,” Jemma repeated, grinning at the feral flash in Hunter’s eyes. She hadn’t recognized the first time she saw it, but now Jemma was quite familiar with how Hunter looked when he was consumed with lust. It was one of her favorite sights.

“My Briar Rose,” Hunter murmured, mouthing along the edge of her jaw. “You are going to be the death of me.”

\---

Hunter, Jemma, and Fitz had been shooed from the cottage while Bobbi began preparations for Jemma’s birthday party the next day. The boys were bickering as usual, shoving each other off the path and generally roughhousing without Bobbi to keep them under control. Jemma didn’t mind when they squabbled, because it generally ended up with one of them pressed up against a tree while they kissed each other passionately. 

Jemma’s center throbbed insistently and she sighed, trying to ignore it. Since her discovery of sex her libido had skytocketed, and she found it difficult to go more than a few hours without an orgasm. She was making up for all the ones she had lost, Jemma told herself - but she also needed to gain some degree of control for when she went back to the castle.

Just when she was about to call the boys to a halt so one of them could get up her skirts, a loud, unfamiliar noise cracked through the air. A flock of birds cawed as they took to the air, and Jemma’s blood ran cold.

“Was that -?”

“The cottage,” Fitz agreed with Hunter’s half-spoken sentence.

“Bobbi!” Jemma gasped. “Do you think -?”

“Stay here,” Fitz said, grabbing Jemma and pulling her in for a firm kiss goodbye. He took off, and after a few steps leapt into the air. When he reached the ground again he was on four legs, not two, as he took on his guardian form - a stag. 

Jemma worried her lip between her teeth. Fitz never shifted in front of people if he could help it (he called it unnerving) and the haste with which he departed did nothing to soothe her nerves.

“It’s probably nothing,” Hunter said soothingly. He tugged her off the path, though, which was concerning, as was his kneeling down to blend into the underbrush. Jemma followed suit, and tried not to let out a shocked squeak when Hunter pressed a dagger into her hand. She should have realized that even if he no longer carried his sword around with him he wouldn’t allow himself to be unarmed. 

They knelt there at the side of the path until Jemma’s legs prickled with pins and needles, then went numb entirely. Hunter didn’t move, and whenever she opened her mouth to speak he put a finger to his lips to hush her. Worry stirred low in Jemma’s belly; surely if it had been a false alarm Fitz would be back by now? She didn’t want to consider all the awful possibilities, but it was difficult when she couldn’t even ask Hunter to assuage her fears. They weren’t even fears, exactly - more confusion and apprehension at not knowing what was happening at the cottage or if Bobbi and Fitz were okay. 

The sun was beginning to set when, finally, footsteps made their way down the path. Hunter tightened his grip on the dagger he was holding and Jemma did the same, until -

“Bobbi!” Jemma flung herself into the other woman’s arms, dagger abandoned in the foliage. Bobbi pulled her in tight and Jemma clung even tighter. 

“What happened?” Jemma asked when they broke away. There was a nasty gash running down Bobbi’s cheekbone, though that appeared to be her only injury.

“A group of men attacked the cottage. They each had a spindle and a length of rope,” Fitz said shortly. “They weren’t expecting Bobbi.”

“The spindles had some sort of enchantment on them,” Bobbi said, reaching up to touch the cut gingerly. “Magic won’t heal this wound.”

“We took care of them. The men and the spindles.” Fitz’s eyes hardened. “But we shouldn’t go back there tonight, in case they weren’t alone.”

“I’ve already sent a message to Daisy and Elena that your party is cancelled,” Bobbi told Jemma, brushing a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, Briar Rose.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Jemma laced her fingers around the back of Bobbi’s neck, pulling her down for a gentle kiss. “It’s not your fault.”

“If anything it’s mine,” Hunter said. “They probably followed me, or -”

“Stop,” Fitz interrupted. “Blaming anyone doesn’t change that happened. We just need to keep Jemma safe until sundown tomorrow.”

“I have the tent,” Hunter said. “Bobbi, can you still…” He wiggled his fingers to indicate magic, and Jemma smiled at Bobbi rolling her eyes at him.

“It’s a scratch, Hunter. I’m fine, and perfectly capable of expanding a tent.”

“Then we’ll set up camp and leave for the castle in the morning,” Hunter declared. “I’m sure Jemma’s parents will be happy to have her back early.”

“I’ll be first guard,” Fitz volunteered.

“That’s really not -”

“Jemma,” Bobbi whispered. “Please. Those people knew what they were doing. If Fitz hadn’t…”

Bobbi ducked her head and Jemma’s heart squeezed. 

“Alright,” she agreed, if only to make Bobbi look less dejected. “As long as somebody sleeps with me.”

\---

“Lance,” Jemma whispered into the dark. “Are you awake?”

“Can’t sleep,” Hunter’s answer came almost immediately. “You either?”

Jemma wet her lips. “I want you to take me.”

The fabric beneath Hunter rustled as he sat up. “Pardon?”

“I want you to take my innocence. Tonight,” Jemma said. “When it’s still just the four of us and no one else.” When they got back to the castle, Jemma didn’t know when they’d next be able to be together with all four of them. If she was going to lose her innocence, she wanted it to be with all of them present - and she wanted it to be tonight.

“Are you sure?”

“Surer than I’ve ever been.” Jemma reached out for Hunter, finding his hand with hers. “It’s not just because someone attacked the cottage. I would’ve much preferred to do this in my bed, actually.”

“I was going to ask you tomorrow morning,” Hunter admitted. “If you would like to lose your innocence on your birthday.”

“If it’s past midnight, it technically is my birthday,” Jemma said. 

“My actual birthday gift to you is at the castle,” Hunter murmured. “But this will do in the interim.”

Jemma squeezed Hunter’s hand before releasing it. She crawled over to the entrance of the tent and threw it open. Bobbi and Fitz had decided to take a guard shift together so they would be able to keep each other awake, and they were talking lowly as they huddled around a ball of light Bobbi had conjured.

“Come here.”

To her surprise neither of them objected, quickly crawling into the tent. Bobbi brought her ball of light with her, illuminating everything in a calm blue glow and casting long shadows on the fabric walls. Bobbi had done an excellent job with making the tent bigger; the four of them fit comfortably with room to spare.

“I will not return to my parents a virgin princess,” Jemma declared. “And I want us all to be here for the moment that happens.”

Rather than protest her choice, Bobbi waved a hand to divest Jemma of her nightgown. Another wave and Hunter’s clothes were gone, then Fitz’s, then Bobbi’s own.

“I don’t know how to start,” Jemma admitted, sitting back on her haunches. It was different now, knowing she would end up underneath Hunter - not a bad sort of different, but she was used to just seeing where the moment took her and following along with it.

“Touch yourself,” Bobbi suggested. 

Jemma did as she was told, trailing a hand down her stomach and through her thatch of curls until she found her clitoris. She sighed, her body immediately fluttering to life when her fingers trailed over the bundle of nerves.

“I love watching you like that,” Bobbi said. “Knowing that a week ago you never would have touched yourself so boldly.”

“A week ago I never would have touched you like this.” Fitz slid over to Bobbi and began walking his fingers up her stomach and kissing at her neck. Bobbi bloomed before him, her legs falling open to reveal a pink cunt that would soon be glistening with wetness.

Bobbi’s hand fumbled until she found Fitz’s prick, her fist wrapping around the base and beginning to pump languidly. Fitz’s fingers had found Bobbi’s nipples and were teasing at them, while Jemma’s own hands continued playing with her clit, building a slow steady heat between her thighs.

“Much can change in a week,” Hunter agreed. He wasn’t touching his cock but it was standing at attention nonetheless, flushing red as it filled. “I’m sure next week will be interesting, too.”

“Let’s not think about next week,” Bobbi said, sighing softly when Fitz slid his hand between her legs. 

“We only have to think about now,” Jemma agreed. “Are you ready, Lance?”

“More than,” he answered. “How do you -?”

Jemma eased herself backwards until she was lying against the floor of the tent, her feet flat on the ground and her knees bent. “You prefer to be on top, don’t you?” Every time she had seen him with Bobbi or Fitz, Hunter was on top of them.

Hunter nodded, making his way over to her and straddling her hips. His cock sat hot against her belly and Jemma struggled to breathe. Soon it would be inside her, and then…

“ _Fitz_.” Bobbi’s breathy moan distracted Jemma from her own apprehension, and she arched back so she could see Bobbi and Fitz. Fitz had lifted Bobbi onto his lab, guiding his cock inside her and letting her slide down on it in one smooth motion.

“You don’t have to do that,” Hunter assured her softly. “We’ll go slow.”

Jemma swallowed and nodded, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She knew this was what she wanted, but she still didn’t know quite what to expect, and the unknown had always been (and always would be) terrifying. 

The background noise of Bobbi and Fitz coupling was oddly soothing despite its frantic nature, because it reminded Jemma exactly what she was supposed to be feeling - pleasure. Hunter waited for her to nod again before he pushed into her, and Jemma gasped at the sensation.

It didn’t feel _good_ , exactly, but it didn’t feel bad, either. _Foreign_ was an apt description.

“More,” Jemma said when her body had adjusted to the intrusion. Hunter did as he was told, sliding into her bit by bit. He paused before she needed to ask him to, reading her like she was a book. 

He withdrew before he reached the base of his cock and thrust back in slowly, almost hesitantly. Jemma didn’t stop him, nor did she stop him when he began to build a rhythm of short, shallow thrusts. Each one opened her a little wider, and each time the sensation of him inside her became less foreign, inching instead towards the heaven she craved.

“You can touch yourself when we do this,” Hunter murmured, kissing the tip of her nose gently even as his hips continued to pump. It was a gesture so unexpectedly sweet that Jemma’s throat began to close. She was glad it was Hunter taking her innocence like this - glad it was someone who would one day be her husband, someone who cared about her enough that he had been willing to let her have whatever life she wanted, even if he wasn’t in it. Maybe that was what love was, Jemma mused, heart hammering in her chest. Yes, she would love Hunter, and it would be beautiful.

She did as he said, sliding her hand between their bodies until she found her clit. Touching herself while Hunter thrust into her was a delicate balancing act as she puzzled out how to heighten the pleasure he was already giving her without frustrating herself too much in the process. Eventually she settled into a rhythm ( _rhythm is the most important thing_ , Hunter’s voice said in her head) and her body began to beg for sweet release.

 _Not yet_ , Jemma thought, gasping as Hunter thrust particularly deeply into her. He was growing rougher as he approached his own orgasm, and Jemma couldn’t say she minded. His single-minded attention on her, the crescendo of their bodies meeting and separating and meeting and separating, his hot breath puffing in her ear - Jemma relished it all.

 _Not yet!_ Jemma insisted to herself as she felt her inner walls began to tighten, a prelude to the shockwaves sure to come. She wanted to hold onto this moment and everything that had led up to it and not let it be over too soon.

When Bobbi cried out, though, Jemma couldn’t help her own unravelling. Hunter’s seed spilled into her a moment later, and Fitz joined the chorus of pleasurable noises as he shouted his release.

Jemma’s entire body went limp and she stared at the ceiling of the tent, feeling pleasantly boneless.

She was no longer innocent.

\---

“The castle’s still another half-day’s ride,” Hunter announced when they stopped to make camp again. 

It was Jemma’s fault that they had gotten such a late start, not that she was embarrassed by that fact. After having her innocence taken she figured another round couldn’t hurt, and it seemed terribly unfair to deny herself the pleasure of Fitz’s cock inside her. The sun had already been up for a long while before they managed to get on the road, and Jemma had needed to stop for frequent breaks - horseback riding only exacerbated the problem of her aching thighs.

“Shall we watch the sunset?” Bobbi suggested. “And celebrate that we managed to keep Jemma from falling into an eternal sleep?”

“I do wonder,” Hunter said as he dismounted his horse and helped Fitz down after. “If you _did_ fall asleep and needed to be woken by true love’s kiss, how would the curse decide which one of us ought to kiss you?”

“It would be Bobbi,” Jemma said without thought. “I’ve known her the longest and right now she’s the only one of you three I can say without question I love.”

“Huh.” Hunter didn’t push any further than that, but Jemma watched both him and Fitz carefully to gauge their reactions. Neither of them seemed particularly hurt that she had admitted she didn’t love them yet, which was a relief. It would be awkward to explain that love wasn’t a word she could bandy about easily, especially when it was _true_ love.

The four of them settled on the crest of a hill, pressed shoulder to shoulder as they watched the sun begin to sink beneath the trees.

No bogeyman with a spindle leapt from the shadows to stab Jemma before sundown on her twenty-fifth birthday. No evil fairy queen appeared to monologue at Jemma about how her plan had been foiled. No one else came at all - it was just the four of them, together, as they had been the night before.

As they would be for a long time, Jemma hoped.

\---

Her wedding to Hunter was not as extravagant of an affair as her parents had hoped, in large part because her dress had had to hide the small bump of her growing child. Jemma thought it was a fitting punishment for them asking her to wait nearly six months to marry Hunter after sending him on a quest to find her and making such a fuss about how important their union was.

How they could have missed her sneaking into his rooms and vice versa, Jemma would never understand.

For their honeymoon they returned to the cottage in the forest, newly protected with layers upon layers of magic spells, among which were several to keep anyone who wasn’t the four of them far away.

“Briar Rose,” Bobbi greeted when Jemma walked through the door, still in her wedding white. Being forced to have a small wedding was also a fitting punishment since her parents refused to let any fae attend - or forest guardians, either. It hadn’t felt right without Bobbi and Fitz there, like it wasn’t a wedding at all.

“Bobbi,” Jemma said, sinking gratefully into her wife’s arms. “I missed you.”

“You saw me this morning,” Bobbi answered, amused. She had helped Jemma into her dress, performing a few last-minute adjustments so it didn’t fit so tightly around her growing chest and stomach.

“Not for long enough,” Jemma answered. “Now, where is that husband of yours?”

“Right here, Briar Rose,” Fitz answered warmly, stepping out of the bedroom. “I was just making sure everything was settled for tonight.”

“I don’t know why you all are making such a big fuss of this,” Jemma huffed. “Nothing we’re doing tonight is something we haven’t done before.” She placed an absent hand on her belly, the proof that what she said was true.

“But, my wife,” Hunter said, wrapping his arms around her from behind and sliding his hand along the swell of her belly, “we never got to do it in this bed.”

“Nor have we gotten to do it while you two are officially wed,” Bobbi added.

“Marriage doesn’t change sex,” Jemma snorted. 

“Apparently it does for fae,” Fitz said.

Jemma startled. “What?”

“We found an old book in your parent’s library,” Bobbi said. “And apparently, fae have to be wed to conceive a child. It’s an old magic.”

“Are you -?” Jemma asked hesitantly.

“No, no,” Bobbi said, brushing away Jemma’s concerns of having two small children at once. “Our marriage is binding legally but not magically. We’re doing more research to figure out if magic will accept multiple spouses.”

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Hunter said into Jemma’s ear. “I told them to wait and tell you until we were back at the castle and you could bury yourself in that book.”

“There are other things I’d rather be buried in tonight, husband,” Jemma said. “Other husband, wife, to the bedroom, please.”

“So bossy,” Hunter murmured, pecking Jemma’s cheek before releasing her and following Fitz back into Jemma’s childhood bedroom.

“She’s always been that way,” Bobbi smirked. “The surprising bit is that we ever thought she was innocent.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Libby (@LibbyWeasley) for betaing this monster of a fic for me! It's been a bit since I last wrote S&S so hopefully this lives up to expectations. :)


End file.
